“Mason.” Tears were running down my face. “I love you so goddamn much too.”
He nodded, touched his lips to mine again, and bent down to slide his hands underneath me. I was picked up from the counter and taken into the shower. He backed me up against the wall, still holding me upright, but it didn’t matter. My legs were wound so tight around him, I wasn’t going to fall. Running my hands over him, over his jaw, over his shoulders, down his chest, then back up to his face again, I opened my mouth to his. His tongue slid inside, meeting mine, and the kisses turned into a battle: who was commanding who. I growled as his tongue brushed mine, sending a heated frenzy through me.
My jeans were unzipped. His boxers were shoved down and kicked off. He took my hand, pressed it against the shower wall, and slid inside me.
I gasped, arching my back and exposing my throat. His mouth fell to lick there, and he began to move.
As he kept thrusting, I moved with him. We were moving as one, just wanting to feel the other, needing to feel the other, and right before I came, he nipped at my throat, then lifted his head back and met my gaze. We watched each other, seeing the release in our eyes. There was an explosion. A guttural groan came from him—no me. It was coming from me. Mason held me still, he wouldn’t look away, as I shook in his arms. When I was done, he dropped his head back down. His lips pressed against mine, and he breathed into me. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
*
After drying off, I looked up at Mason. I didn’t want to talk. Love and so many other emotions were still with me, choking me, and he seemed to understand. He came to me, then bent and lifted me in the air. He carried me to his bed. As he reached to shut off the bathroom light, Matteo flipped over in his bed and mumbled from under the covers, “A shower, huh, brotha?”
Mason stiffened, but flipped the switch. The room went back to darkness and he replied, “Yeah.”
“That’s good…good for you.” His voice trailed off and a loud snore came next.
Ducking his head to my neck, I felt him laughing and bit down on my lip so my own didn’t slip out. Mason shook his head, but crossed the room to his bed. The covers were pulled back, and he set me down. I moved to one side and felt the bed dip under his weight as he sidled up behind me. A second later, he wrapped his arms around me and I closed my eyes. A deep satisfaction resounded throughout me, replacing all the anxiety and worries from before. For that moment, for that night, I knew I wouldn’t have to be concerned about anything.
He brushed his lips to my neck. “I love you. Thank you for coming.”
Feeling tears threatening to spill, I squeezed his arm. “I love you too.”
Then we went to sleep.
When I woke up, Mason was gone and a note was left on his nightstand. Practice, then home. Coffee downstairs. Some of the other players’ girlfriends are around. They can help if you need anything. Love you. Mason
After getting dressed, I snuck downstairs for coffee and a bottle of water, then went back up to his room. Before I went inside, I glanced over my shoulder to where she had been. The memory of Marissa came back to me and I wrinkled my nose. Mason hadn’t explained what she was doing here, but I wasn’t stupid. He thought that I was her when I first came in. The fact that he’d been prepared for that possibility, of her sneaking into his bed, didn’t sit well with me, but today was going to be a day of other confessions. I needed to tell him about Jackson.
I wanted to groan and bang my head against his desk. I called Logan instead.
It rang three times before he picked up, “Sam?”
“Hi.”
I grimaced. I had said it so stiffly, he would know something was wrong.
“What’s wrong?”
And he did. I let out a sigh, closed my eyes, and rubbed at the top of my nose. “She was here last night.”
“Who was?”
I didn’t get a second to tell him before he exploded, “Are you fucking kidding me? Marissa? He didn’t tell me that.”
“Yeah.” I was miserable, then the rest clicked in. “Wait? You talked to Mason already?”
“He called to ask if something had happened. We didn’t talk long, but he never said anything about Marissa.”
“What did he say?”
“That was it really. He called and asked, ‘Did something happen? Sam’s here.’ My response was, ‘No.’ I didn’t say anything about Jackson because you told me not to; although, he won’t care. Then someone yelled his name and he hung up. That was the conversation.”
“Oh.”
“Why was she there?”
“He didn’t tell me yet. We,” my cheeks grew warm, “didn’t get too much talking done last night.”
“Oh.” He laughed. “Gotta love that my sister called me because she was too busy banging my brother to get an explanation about his stalker. That’s my new Twitter handle.”